In the glittering firmament of contemporary psychedelic rock, Sweden’s Les Big Byrd have always felt like a secret weapon—fronted by the endlessly inventive Joakim Åhlund and armed with a sound that marries krautrock propulsion, lush synth textures, and soaring guitar melodies. Kattguld, released in October 2025, is the long-overdue vinyl compendium fans have been begging for: a 36-minute distillation of the band’s prolific PNKSLM era, bundling the 2014 Back to Bagarmossen EP with the 2017 Two Man Gang and 2018 A Little More Numb 7-inches. These were once scarce collector’s items; now they sit together like chapters in a psychedelic novel.
The record opens with the Back to Bagarmossen trio. Title track “Back to Bagarmossen” is pure motorik swagger—fuzzy riffs, locked-in drums, and Åhlund’s laconic vocal riding the groove like a Stockholm taxi through fog. “Tinnitus Ætérnum” drifts into deeper space, layering eternal drones and subtle keyboard washes that live up to the title. Then comes the eight-and-a-half-minute centerpiece “Dandelion Seeds,” a majestic cover of July’s 1968 psych gem. Here the band stretches the original into a sun-dappled jam, guitars spiraling like dandelion clocks in a summer breeze. It’s the kind of track that makes you forget what year it is.
Side B shifts gears without losing altitude. “Two Man Gang” is a gritty, riff-heavy psych-rocker that sounds like it was recorded in a basement full of incense and ambition. Its flip, the Guided By Voices cover “My Valuable Hunting Knife,” condenses the Dayton legends’ lo-fi charm into two-and-a-half minutes of sharp, buzzing energy. The 2018 single “A Little More Numb” is the hazy heart of the compilation—six minutes of gently modulated keyboards and narcotic repetition that nod to Spacemen 3 and Sonic Boom. Closer “I Live in the Springtime” (The Lemon Drops cover) lifts the mood with breezy ’60s sunshine, proving the band can do garage-pop euphoria as convincingly as cosmic drift.
What elevates Kattguld beyond mere nostalgia is its cohesion. These tracks were never meant to sit on one LP, yet they flow like a lost album—raw single urgency preserved, melodic invention intact. The vinyl pressing (especially the splatter variant) feels warm and alive, the perfect format for music this tactile. For newcomers it’s an ideal entry point; for devotees it’s the missing puzzle piece between They Worshipped Cats and the more polished later works.
In a scene bloated with retro cosplay, Les Big Byrd remain authentic explorers. Kattguld isn’t fool’s gold—it’s the real thing: shimmering, hypnotic, and essential. Spin it once and you’ll be reaching for Volume 2 before the needle lifts.